


Potter, I demand to have your baby.

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, HP: EWE, Lots of Sex, M/M, but this time the Healer is a dear, meddling older witches, more medical, nosy house-elf, seriously what is it with me and the medical lately?, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: Draco and Narcissa show up at Harry's door with a remarkably unexpected demand.





	1. Unexpected guests at the door

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Enchanted-Jae! Thanks a bunch, Jae! All remaining errors are all mine.

Harry was exercising behind his new house in Godric’s Hollow when he heard the doorbell ring. He’d taken up pushups and jogging recently; mostly because Hermione was on a kick to encourage everyone to fetch their own tea and walk down their own stairs. “It isn’t good for the bones and muscles to do everything with magic!” she would scold. 

Harry had no interest in giving up the convenience of magic for his dinner and getting places, but now that he wasn’t practicing Quidditch at Hogwarts multiple times a week, he needed to do _something_ to stay fit. Exercise seemed like a good fit for both needs.

“Strange that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t just pop round back,” he murmured to himself as he stood and tried to brush the worst of the dirt off his knees and hands. The doorbell rang once more, and Harry wondered if his assumption about who was visiting might be incorrect. “Coming!” he called out, and pulled out his wand to clean the rest of the dirt from his clothing and hands.

Neither Ron nor Hermione were on Harry’s new doorstep. Instead, Harry was quite surprised to find Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. “Er, come in?” he said, and stepped back to open the door as wide as it would go. 

Mrs Malfoy smiled at Harry as she swept past him in long, shimmering peach robes, small jewels twinkling at her throat and wrist. Draco, on the other hand, seemed to sneer briefly at Harry’s t-shirt and cotton shorts before wiping his face clean of reaction, and pushing past Harry into the house. Harry stared at his back, noting that Draco was wearing short robes of deep forest green over matching trousers. There was silver embroidery at the wrist, and Harry thought there might have been some at the neck, as well. The effect was nearly Indian, and would have been more so, were Draco not as pale and blonde as Aunt Petunia’s favourite painting of Jesus. 

The outfit looked particularly good on Draco, and Harry found himself wishing the pair had not called while he was exercising in the garden and wearing the clothes to match.

“Tea would be lovely,” Harry heard Narcissa say, and Harry thought that was a funny way to ask him to bring them tea, but then he saw Kreacher bowing. 

“Kreacher?” Harry said, a bit stupidly, but Kreacher lived and worked nearly full time at Hogwarts now. Harry had never asked him to come to the new house, even though technically, Harry was still Kreacher’s “master.” 

“How Master Harry could calls not for Kreacher?” the house-elf chided. “With guests so distinguished? Kreacher caretakes of everything.” With that, Kreacher transfigured Harry’s exercise clothing into something that seemed to be just as formal as what the Malfoy matriarch and heir wore. Harry noted that it was a deep blue color, and that the collar was both tight and slightly itchy. He pulled at it with one hand while showing his sudden guests into his new, half-furnished parlour.

“Er, please excuse the lack of furniture,” he said, feeling wrong-footed again. “I’ve only just moved in last week. Right after the builders finished the interior.”

Draco sneered a bit, and pulled the ottoman away from Harry’s only chair. Then he gestured for his mother to sit in the chair, and only when she did, did he pull the ottoman back two feet and sit down next to her, his back straight, his hands folded in his lap, disdain on his face.

Harry thought to get a chair from the kitchen, but when he turned toward the door, he saw a kitchen chair floating into the room, and Kreacher right behind it with the massive silver tea service that Harry was quite certain he had left behind at Grimmauld Place. Behind Kreacher a small coffee table floated into the room. Harry didn’t recognise it. Kreacher had apparently transfigured something.

Kreacher poured everyone tea, and soon afterwards the three of them were sitting uncomfortably, trying not to stare at one another and pretending to want hot tea at eleven in the morning in July. 

Harry put his cup in his saucer and sat forward a bit. “So,” he began uncertainly, “what brings you to visit today?”

“As you are aware,” Narcissa Malfoy began, but Malfoy jerked forward slightly and his mother leaned forward enough to put a hand on his knee, as though to shush him. 

Harry stared, wanting to laugh, but too overcome by the formality of it all for that to be a real worry. He nodded slightly at Mrs Malfoy, hoping she would continue. 

“What I did for you in the forest could be construed as having saved your life.”

Startled, Harry meant to interject, but Mrs Malfoy continued on smoothly. “Since you testified as much to the Wizengamot, I know, as does everyone else, that you agree that I saved your life.” She sat back an inch. “As such, you owe me a life debt. I am here to collect upon it.”

“I… see…” Harry said, though he did not. He reached up to the high collar of the formal robes Kreacher had placed him in, and again pulled the fabric away from his throat. He swallowed. He found himself wishing Arthur Weasley or Kingsley Shacklebolt were here to help him figure out what to do. Anyone older, really, who had a solid understanding of life debts and such. 

“That seems like a really big responsibility. What… did you want?” Harry tried asking. “I might need to talk to, you know, someone. Someone who knows about these things.”

“No need,” Mrs Malfoy said, making a small waving gesture with one hand. “This is all quite straightforward, I assure you. And what I ask of you will require no blood or treasure on your part. Or even actions you are likely to find at all unpleasant. You see, Draco and I feel a life is the best payment for saving your life. We must insist that you help Draco beget an heir.”

Harry knew he looked confused, but he was still surprised when Draco interjected with: “She means, Potter, that we want you to get me pregnant.”

Harry felt the blood drain slowly from his face. He only realized his jaw had fallen open several heartbeats after it had. Mrs Malfoy had kindly begun to look elsewhere, but Draco started to sneer at him, and only then did Harry feel that his mouth was wide open. He picked up his teacup and tried to take a sip without spilling. It seemed the easiest way to stall for time.

“That’s, er…” he eventually managed to say. Nothing else came out of his mouth.

“Exactly,” Draco snapped. He nodded to his mother, then turned back to Harry. “Now that Father is indisposed--”

Harry opened his eyes wider but managed not to goggle at this statement. Nonetheless, he thought ‘indisposed’ was an interesting choice of synonym for ‘sentenced to seven consecutive lifetimes in Azkaban.’

“--Mother and I must find our way in the world without his guidance. The first duty of an heir who has come of age is to secure an heir of his own. This is doubly true of an heir with no younger brother and no chance of one. No heir could better bolster the fortunes of the Malfoy family than your son, Potter. Therefore, Mother and I have come to collect on her life debt, and insist that you get me pregnant. Right away.” 

He sniffed, as though being in Harry’s lounge, or near Harry, or having to speak of such things, or _something_ , anyway, about this whole business was highly distasteful. 

“S-so…” Harry said, aware that he was stammering a little. “That’s… possible?”

Narcissa Malfoy’s smile only hinted at condescension. “With a great deal of medi-magical assistance, it most assuredly is, Mr Potter. I can admit that I am not certain of every detail of how Healers accomplish this miracle of life, but it is how my own Great-Grandfather was conceived. While it is not the most common method for bringing babies into the world, it is not only possible, it is established, understood, and _accepted_ magic. Draco must secure an heir, and this is how I choose to call in my Life Debt.”

She sipped her tea, and Harry watched her do it, completely unable to string together a single question, let alone a challenge.

“We have an appointment at St Mungo’s in twenty minutes,” Draco added, looking at his pocketwatch.

“Kreacher is excellent with babies!” Kreacher piped up from the doorway.


	2. Healer Frandle? Yes, Healer Frandle!

They did indeed have an appointment, with a grey-haired, bearded Healer whose handshake was firm and whose smile was reassuring.

“Mr Malfoy,” he said warmly. “Mr Potter. Do come in, gentlemen. Do come in.” He shut the door to his office with his wand, and sat at his own desk. Harry and Draco sat side by side in comfortable chairs, not looking at one another. Harry traced the lines on the Healer’s nameplate over and over with his eyes. “Healer Q. Frandle, Maternal and Paternal Magi-medicine.”

“Now, which of you young gentlemen plans to carry the pregnancy?” Frandle asked, and Draco leaned forward. “That would be me,” he said, sounding stiff and angry.

“Very good,” Frandle said, “very good. I see you are eighteen?” He was looking at a parchment that lay curling on his heavy wooden desk. 

“We both are,” Draco answered, just slightly too loud.

“Excellent, excellent,” Frandle said, and smiled. “There should be no health issues, at such a ripening age, no health issues. But if I could do a very swift diagnostic workup?”

“Certainly. Did you need me to move to an exam room?” Malfoy said, his hands perching now at the edges of the chair’s arms, as though he wished to bounce up out of the chair and rush to the next step.

“Oh,” Frandle said calmly. “No need. No need!” He waved his wand at Draco, and Draco was suddenly encased in a swirl of light. It began as purple, then blue light swirled in. The light shifted to green, then yellow. Next, orange light twirled in from the top, and as it swirled downwards, the top of the spell-light turned red. As the red drained away, nothing replaced it. 

“Marvelous results!” Frandle said with enthusiasm. “Such marvelous results, young man. We should have no difficulty whatsoever in getting you pregnant, or bringing a healthy baby to term.” He wrote several things on his parchment, then looked up again. His smile was warm and reassuring, and -- to his surprise -- Harry felt some relief. 

Draco, meanwhile, sat back in his chair, looking as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders with Frandle’s pronouncement. 

“Do you gentlemen know how male pregnancy is accomplished?” Frandle asked, sitting back in his chair and steepling his hands.

Harry shook his head to show that no, he had no idea.

“We use a combination of spells and potions,” Frandle told him. “Your partner does not require a womb to carry your child. The pregnancy will just sit inside his abdominal cavity, inside the amniotic sac.” Frandle conjured a two dimensional image of a man in the air, and inside it, Harry saw a sac cradling a tiny, beating heart. He felt something in his own heart start to soften.

“But I do need to transfigure his appendix into an ovary. Then we need to force ovulation. That's done with two potions, which the hospital will brew for you, so they are both fresh, and tailored to your and your partner’s magical signatures. Once Mr Malfoy has ovulated, which we'll know from the twinge of discomfort, we will use Apparition magic to bring the egg and sperm together in exactly the right place, and Charms to make certain the sac forms properly and the placenta attaches safely. Then I'll prescribe potions for him to take throughout the pregnancy to maintain your baby's and your partner’s health." 

Frandle waved his wand, and the image of the pregnant man and his foetus began to change, rapidly illustrating the stages of pregnancy, as though babies were fully formed moments after ovulation. Soon, a tall man, made of light and air, stood over Frandle’s desk with his hands on his enormous, pregnant belly. The baby inside was visible too, and it brought a lump to Harry’s throat. His eyes felt as wide as sunflowers. He would be a father soon? It was all a bit much, and yet… he had always wanted to be a father.

“Once Mr Malfoy’s pregnancy is at term, we will perform an ‘Apparition section,’ and remove the baby, sac and placenta.” He illustrated this with his wand, and the pregnant man was again flat-bellied and trim, but now he held an infant in his arms. “Do either of you gentlemen have any questions?”

“Will the section leave a scar?” Draco asked. 

“No,” Frandle said, smiling. “No, there will not be any risk of scarring.”

“How often will Draco need to come in and see you, once he’s pregnant?” Harry wondered. 

Frandle smiled again. “At first every month, then every two weeks, then every week. For the last few days, we will want him in here every day for checks, as we want to take the baby out at the most opportune moment of all. And even though we will know to the second when conception took place, not all babies progress in exactly the same way. Babies are not all the same.” 

Harry nodded, and Draco did too. Harry couldn’t quite believe this, yet he was feeling perfectly at ease, somehow. Perhaps it was Frandle’s calm and confident manner, perhaps it was because he had wanted to be a father for years and years. Perhaps it was because, in the process of breaking up with Ginny, he’d realized that if someone as amazing as she was couldn’t inspire him to be sexually attracted to girls, then it was time to admit he was attracted to boys. And being attracted to boys was suddenly a lot less challenging, unusual, and childless than he had ever anticipated.

Whatever the reason, he found himself relaxing in Frandle’s office chair, feeling perfectly content to allow Draco to completely reroute his life. 

“If there are no more questions?” Frandle asked, and Harry nodded at him. Next to him, Draco did the same. “If there are no more questions,” Frandle said, smiling again, “Then all that is left is a diagnostic spell to assure that your magics are already compatible enough to create and sustain a pregnancy. I’m sure it won’t be a problem at all. Not a problem.”

Harry and Draco nodded, and Frandle raised his wand and cast sideways, across Draco to Harry, and then back again. Harry’s view of Frandle and his office went a pale reddish color, but when he turned to look at Draco, he seemed to be sitting in a swirling purple cloud. The colors were pretty, so Harry smiled, but he looked at Frandle through the red swirl, and the Healer did not seem to be smiling.

The colors disappeared, and Frandle cleared his throat. “Er, how long have you two young gentlemen been lovers? When did you first become sexually intimate with one another, I mean?”

“We are not,” Draco replied firmly.

Harry saw that Frandle seemed flustered, even unhappy, for the first time since they had met him. “We have never slept together. Will that be a problem?” Harry asked.

Frandle turned to him with an uncertain smile. “Noo,” he began. “I mean, not in the long term. I do not believe so, at any rate. I do not expect it. But there will be no pregnancy this week. Far be it for me to judge, of course, you are both of age, and if you wish, that is to say….” He put his hands down on his desk and looked out the window for a moment, then looked back at Harry and Draco. “I have been helping couples achieve healthy pregnancies and deliver healthy babies for decades. In all that time, I have never actually run across a couple who wished to be parents together even though they were not lovers. Were not, in fact, very much in love.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with anything!” Draco said, his hands clenched into fists in his lap, his spine straight and his voice firm and loud.

“It is relevant,” Frandle said gently, looking right into Draco’s eyes, “because you are both male, and your magic is not currently compatible with his magic. Not for the matter of creating and sustaining a pregnancy with him as the other father. For a man to get pregnant with another person’s child, whether that other parent is male or female, the two partners have to have compatible, friendly magic. To some extent this is true for ‘ordinary’ heterosexual pregnancies in witches as well. But it is far more critical for a wizard intending to carry a child. You two cannot currently become parents together.” He frowned sadly at them.

“How do we fix it?” Harry said, surprising himself with his own eagerness, which suddenly seemed to override his dismay. Draco looked over sharply, clearly surprised.

“To be frank,” Frandle said, “the simplest, fastest, and surest way, is to become lovers. To carry your child, Draco’s body, his very _internal organs_ , must become accustomed to both your sperm and your magic. To use the muggle term, he needs to become accustomed to your DNA.”

Harry nodded. Hermione’s parents had explained DNA.

“Otherwise,” he turned to look Draco in the eye, and he spoke gently, “your immune system will simply reject the entire pregnancy, and you will have a miscarriage. A desperately painful miscarriage.” 

Now Frandle looked miserable. “I’m so sorry to have misled you, young gentlemen. But there will be no pregnancy this week, nor this month. If you still wish to have a child together, I believe you will be able to. I truly do believe that you will be able to! But first, I believe, you will need to begin having sex. The more frequent the sex, the better. And, while I am being blunt, I need to explain that this will need to be anal intercourse, and that Mr Potter will need to be the penetrating partner, while Mr Malfoy will need to be the enveloping partner.”

“Er, so, I need to fuck him,” Harry said, feeling his face begin to burn.

“Yes,” Frandle said, still looking Harry calmly in the eye. “That is exactly the course of action I recommend.” His matter of fact manner was reassuring in such strange and unexpected circumstances. 

“Every day?” Harry felt empowered to ask. He glanced at Draco, whose face was flushed and shoulders were hunched in. He looked embarrassed and confused, but when he looked into Harry’s eyes, they seemed to harbor some hope. Harry found himself wishing he had the courage to take Draco's hand into his own. Except, what would Frandle think? Hell, what would Draco think?

“At the very least,” Frandle said. “I honestly can’t predict how long it will take for your magics to become friendly enough that he could sustain a healthy pregnancy with you as the other father, Mr Potter. But I can tell you that the youngest couple I’ve ever helped become parents had been married for eighteen months. Everyone else had been sexually intimate, exclusively with one another, for longer than that. It does not mean you will need two years of frequent anal intercourse to make this a possibility. I do not mean that at all. I wish to make that clear.”

“You’re just saying,” Harry said slowly, “that you aren’t experienced with… brand new couples.”

“Correct,” Frandle said, and he looked a bit more relaxed when he said it.

“So,” Draco said stiffly, “we should go home and become more compatible.”

Frandle nodded.

“When should we come back for another test?” Draco asked, and Frandle finally smiled again. 

“Whenever you like,” he said, and spread his hands. “It won’t take any time at all to check your compatibility and your health, and then, when we find you have been successful, we can move toward pregnancy immediately, if you wish. So I suppose, you should return when you wish to become pregnant.”

Draco stood up and looked at Harry. “I believe I understand the situation fully now,” he said. 

Harry wasn’t quite so sure of his own understanding, but since he couldn’t think of any more questions, he stood as well.

“Will that be satisfactory for now, young gentlemen?” Frandle stood up too and stuck out his hand, so Harry shook it. Frandle reached toward Draco’s hand then, and Draco shook his hand as well.

Nodding, they all moved toward the door. Harry smiled at Frandle, but Draco did not. He headed for the stairs and Harry followed in his wake, feeling awkward.

Soon, Harry found himself in the lobby with Draco. “Take me home,” Draco said, sounding rather exhausted. “ _Your_ home,” he said sharply, seeing confusion on Harry’s face.

Harry took Draco into the curve of one arm, and _Apparated_ them back to Godric’s Hollow.


	3. Kitchen table talk.

“Go back to Hogwarts, Kreacher,” Harry said when the house-elf began to flutter around them, offering tea and biscuits and pillows and ice water and slippers as soon as they entered the house. “I’ll call for you if I need you, all right?”

Kreacher looked nervously toward Draco, but when Draco seemed no more interested in Kreacher’s fussing than Harry did, Kreacher left.

“Alone at last,” Draco said, and while he sounded snarky, he looked exhausted. 

“I need a beer,” Harry said. He felt exhausted himself. “What about you?”

“Dutch courage?” Draco snapped. “Sure. Got any whiskey?”

“No,” Harry said, and headed for the pantry. “Just beer, cider, ale and… oh, I have a bottle of wine here. It was a housewarming gift.”

“Give it here,” Draco said. “Oh!” he exclaimed after reading the label. “I’ll have a glass of this! This is a very nice wine.”

“Great,” Harry said, and found that he meant it. “I’ll try it too, I suppose.”

While Harry found two wine glasses and poured them both nearly full, Draco took off his robe tunic. Underneath, he wore a tight black undershirt tucked into a pair of almost Muggle looking green trousers. He sat at Harry’s small kitchen table with the robe hung over the back of his chair.

It was a nice wine, actually, and they sat drinking it together.

“I’ve never fucked a bloke,” Harry finally admitted after half a glass.

“No?” Draco said quietly. He finished his glass, then looked at Harry from under his fringe.

“I think… I mean… I want to, though. I want to, er, fuck blokes.” Harry said, looking out the window. He felt his heart speeding up.

Draco poured himself more wine. “Could you want to… fuck me?” he asked, looking down at the table.

“Probably?” Harry hedged. “We don’t get along all that, er, comfortably, but damn, Malfoy, you’re awfully easy on the eyes.” Harry finished his glass of wine quickly, embarrassed. “I always thought,” he mumbled, “that my first lover would be….” Draco ignored him, thank Merlin. It was painful to admit that he’d always thought he would be in love with the first person he had sex with.

Harry fought the desire to jump up and pace around his kitchen. His heart was going much too fast. He had to calm it, but not in such a way that would upset his… guest. Finally he thought of an excuse, and he jumped up from the table to open his refrigerator. 

“I need to eat,” he said, looking at all the food Kreacher had purchased and cooked while he and Draco were at St Mungos. “Do you? There’s a fruit salad, a pasta salad, most of a huge zucchini lasagna I could reheat…”

“How about oysters?” Draco interrupted.

“Oysters?” Harry said, confused. 

“Sure,” Draco said, and finished his third glass of wine. Harry watched his throat as he tipped his head back to swallow.

“Or salmon. We need aphrodisiacs. Maybe sausages. Something that will get us in the mood, don’t you think? You got any big, thick, all beef sausage for me, Harry?” He stood up and took a step toward Harry. He was just a little unsteady on his feet, and Harry, who had drunk far less, found that a tipsy Draco was just a bit… enticing. 

But he had failed to explain something important, and this needed to come first. “Er… I’m a vegetarian,” Harry said.

“A... what?” Draco tipped his head a bit, and Harry was alarmed to find that this small action made Draco look positively adorable.

“I don’t eat meat anymore,” Harry explained. “I do still eat eggs and cheese, though. I’m not a vegan.” Harry shook his head. He refused to feel guilty about not going full vegan, no matter what Luna said. 

“I have no idea what you are even talking about,” Draco said, and he stepped closer and gently closed Harry’s refrigerator. “How can you not eat meat? I assure you, I…” his eyes dropped blatantly to Harry’s crotch, “ _definitely_ eat meat.”

Harry felt his body respond keenly to Draco’s gaze. His brain reacted too, but by shutting down. Harry stood silently in his kitchen, one hand on the closed refrigerator, and stared at Draco.

Draco took another step toward Harry. His eyes still on the growing bulge in Harry’s trousers.

Draco took one more step, and now he was within striking range. “May I?” he asked, but he didn’t look up. Was he asking Harry, or Harry’s cock? Because he might get a different answer, depending.

“What?” Harry asked, his voice squeaking. “May you, er, what?”

Draco slowly dropped down to his knees, and his face was _right in front of_ Harry’s erection. 

“May I… see?”

Harry’s head nodded yes before any part of his brain fully understood the question, let alone chose an answer. But Draco didn’t seem to realize that, and he reached up to unbuckle Harry’s narrow belt. 

While he did so, his knuckles brushed against Harry’s cock, an action which released a whine from Harry’s throat. He hadn’t known that was in there!

But Draco didn’t let Harry’s undignified noises distract him, and soon he was pulling Harry’s prick out. With his hands! Draco was touching Harry’s dick with _both of his hands_.

Harry was feeling faint. Probably because he was hungry. Though his heart was pounding so hard and his cock was so hard and it was being touched by Draco Malfoy whose… mouth was open?

“May I suck your cock, Harry?” Draco asked in a husky voice, and it could not possibly be a real question, except that Harry was already answering it, with “Yes, yes, please Draco, please ….” and Draco… did. 

Draco took the crown into his mouth and sucked on it a bit, as though he wasn’t sure how this new thing might taste. 

“I need to sit down!” Harry yelped, desperately embarrassed, but aware that falling down in a dead faint during a blowjob would be more embarrassing. But Draco didn’t seem amused, exactly, as he reached behind him and snagged a chair. As he pressed Harry over and into it, the look on his face seemed far more like excitement. Delight, even. 

Draco was delighted?

Draco started in on Harry’s cock again, and Harry’s mind emptied. His world narrowed to pleasure and amazement. His dick, Draco’s mouth, Draco’s hand. He moaned and whined, he reached across his chest and grabbed at his own shoulders, and remembered, erratically, to breathe. He kept this up for approximately half a minute, and then he started to come.

“Aungh!” Draco yelped, clearly not yet expecting this development. He let go of Harry’s cock, which continued merrily along without him. Draco had made himself redundant. 

Harry grabbed his own dick and milked out the last of his orgasm. Then he opened his eyes. “Er…” he tried. 

Draco was cleaning his face and neck.

“You might have warned me,” he said sourly.

“I, er, sorry?” Harry apologized. “No one’s ever, I’ve never–”

“Yes,” Draco interjected. “I get it. This was your first blowjob. I shall endeavor to feel flattered. I’m sure I will succeed any minute.” He finally looked into Harry’s face again. “Would you be willing to try this again, only supine this time?” 

Harry stared at him, his mind still reeling from a potent mix of orgasm and embarrassment.

“It means lying down. On your back?” he added.

Blushing, Harry nodded and stood, stuffing himself back into his pants. 

“Not sure that’s necessary,” he thought he heard Draco mutter.

“Not comfortable running around half naked,” he said over his shoulder. He left the kitchen to head up the stairs. “Yet,” he added quietly. 

Climbing the stairs, Harry reflected on the strange direction his life had taken in the course of only two or three hours. He would really need to send Hermione and Ron an owl soon, he realized. But it seemed first he needed to head upstairs and lose his virginity. He swallowed suddenly. There was a weird lump sitting in his throat.

“Er, so, here’s my bedroom,” he said, and opened the door. “Sorry it isn’t very, er, tidy,” he mumbled. It was rather a disaster area but he didn’t feel like admitting that much out loud. Draco could see.

“Do you want to undress yourself, or would you like me to do it?” Draco grumbled. 

Harry thought he might have intended it as a sexy offer of some sort, but since he was staring at the floor, muttering and blushing, it came across more as though Draco were some sort of angry servant, who really wanted to be released for the rest of the evening. Harry almost told Draco so, but then he stopped. 

“What’s going on here?” he asked instead. “In your head, I mean. What are you feeling and… such?” He took a deep breath. Draco stayed silent, looking at him from under his fringe, his cheeks still quite pink.

“All right then,” Harry said, and he sat at the end of his bed. “I’ll go first. So, I’m really embarrassed, and nervous. I feel sort of, er, ridiculous, really. Also I think I'm a little excited about probably getting to have some sex with a hot bloke. A lot of sex, really, if this goes the way the Healer was saying.” He felt his cheeks and neck heat up. “But mostly I'm just feeling incredibly weird, you know?” 

Harry spread his arms open wide. “You show up, a surprise, I haven’t seen you in months, I haven’t heard a word about what you’re up to or anything. To be honest, I hadn’t thought about you much. I’ve been really busy with the house, with, er,...” he took a deep breath, forced himself to continue. 

“With breaking up with Ginny Weasley. With going to a whole lot of funerals. With deciding not to go to the Auror Academy. With explaining to around a dozen people, way too many times, exactly _why_ I wasn’t going to go to the Auror Academy. With trying to think seriously about what the hell I _am_ going to do.”

Harry stood up and paced across the room. Draco stood still near Harry’s door. “I still have no idea what I am going to do for a job or career or whatever, by the way. I don’t think my friends would accept ‘stud’ as a reasonable job title, either.” He giggled nervously and paced the other direction.

“So, yeah, anyway, I’ve been busy with… surprisingly little, honestly, and then you and your _Mum_ show up and demand that I do this thing. A thing that, if I thought about it more, I might have a problem with, you know? I’m not happy about the possibility of a baby, _my_ baby, being raised up somewhere without me.” He paced to the window. 

“But, well, I guess we’ll address that stuff later. Apparently I won’t be getting you up the duff any time soon, so we can talk that stuff out as we work on getting you, er, ready.” Harry swallowed uncomfortably and paced to the foot of the bed. 

“So now I just have to face the fact that I’m going to be losing my virginity to you. You? A bloke I’ve been fighting with since we were eleven? You may be easy on the eyes, but it isn’t like I just met you, Draco. We have, you know, a lot of history and… stuff.” Harry paced again, but this time, when he paced past Draco, the other took hold of his upper arm. 

“Will you sit?” he asked, not unkindly. “You’re making me nervous, and I should probably jump in and say… a few things.”

Looking into Draco’s scrunched, blushing face, Harry found he could answer without much deliberation. “Yes. Right. Okay.” He sat himself at the very edge of his bed, facing Draco. 

Draco, however, stepped away and looked out the window. Harry felt comfortable with this, to his surprise. It meant no one could expect him to look Draco in the eye, for one thing. It also meant that he could look, instead, at whatever part of Draco he chose. The first place he chose was Draco’s arse. He watched it move as Draco shifted his weight nervously as he spoke.

“So,” Draco began. He ran one hand through his hair, golden in the light from the window. Harry watched it fall back into place with some envy, but then Draco shifted his weight to his other foot and Harry’s eyes were again riveted to Draco’s high, round arse.

“So there was the final battle, and then my, my father’s trial. And then there was some confusion as to whether or not either Mother or I, or possibly both of us, would be tried as well.”

Harry nodded, though Draco couldn’t see. 

“But it was decided that students would not be tried, and Mother’s risk on your behalf was determined to be more than enough to excuse anything she might have otherwise been tried for. Especially since she never took His mark. And then an Auror returned my wand, which apparently you had surrendered to the Ministry.”

Harry nodded again. “Yes,” he said, through a throat that needed clearing.

“So Mother and I had a great deal to think about,” Draco said, rather vaguely. 

“I’m sure,” Harry said, gravelly again. He cleared his throat once, then a second time. “Got it that time,” he said, feeling stupid. His voice now sounded clear though, at least.

Draco ignored him and continued. “Mother and I determined that we should be thinking about the future. The near future, the future of our own lives in the long term, but also, the future of the Malfoy name, the Malfoy family. To be brief, we decided that a pregnancy would solve quite a lot of problems, all at once.”

“Er,” Harry tried, wondering why said pregnancy had to involve _him_.

“I should be more specific,” Draco continued, still looking out the window. He turned and looked over his shoulder for a moment, which did rather incredible things to the long lines of his back in its black shirt, and the tight roundness of his arse in those fitted green trousers. Harry looked up just in time. He thought.

He was pretty sure.

“I needed an heir, yes. But I needed a prestigious heir. And I needed to keep my son _safe_. No woman, save perhaps Hermione Granger, would be able to bear me an heir prestigious enough to even come close to starting to undo the damage my father did to the name of Malfoy.”

He shifted to his other foot as Harry watched. “And never in a million years would I be stupid enough to think that Hermione Granger would condescend to have my child. She owes me nothing at all, worse, she was tortured in my home. Not to mention, the rumour mill suggests that she and Ronald Weasley are moments from their own engagement.”

Harry nodded, though Draco couldn’t see. He was pretty sure Draco was right about that, though. 

“On the other side, I don’t generally… prefer females. The option of not having to marry a girl was extremely appealing. And Mother was open to the idea when I brought it up as a possibility. She even suggested you as the other father, both because of the life debt and your excellent reputation.” 

Draco shifted his feet, and twisted a bit, bending forward slightly, then finally settling, calm, all his weight on his right foot. Harry felt himself growing hard again, despite –quite recently– having come partially in Draco’s mouth and partially on Draco’s face. Thinking about that only got him harder, as it turned out.

“So, to bring us back to this bedroom, right here and now, I’m pretty much a virgin too. However, I’ve been stretching myself with arse plugs for the past three days.”

Harry felt his cock positively leap with joy at this incredible, strange confession.

“So you should not have any worries about hurting me, even if your cock is… ‘heroically’ large.” Draco leaned forward again briefly, taking his weight to his toes, then back to his heels, then off to his left side.

Staring at this lovely show, Harry swallowed. He wasn’t really sure if he was either big or small, but by occasionally, surreptitiously comparing himself to his friends in Gryffindor, he thought he was probably pretty… ordinary? He hoped Draco wouldn’t tease him about that too often. He found himself wondering about how big Draco’s cock might turn out to be, and wondering how long he would have to wait to find out.

“So, I repeat my previous question. Did you want to undress yourself, or might you enjoy it if I… did that for you?”

Staring blankly, Harry paused, surprisingly helpless. He knew he really needed to answer the question. The problem was, he had no idea what he preferred. More to the point, he had no idea what Draco would prefer. 

Harry did not often aim to choose words that someone else wanted to hear. He had never been that sort of person. But right now, as Draco slowly turned around and looked coyly at Harry from underneath his fringe, Harry found himself fervently wishing for some sort of hint, or maybe a bit of Legilimency skill. (Which was odd, wasn’t it? As he had never much liked Draco, or -- more to the point -- wanted to coddle him.) Without a hint or some magic, however, he needed to speak, and soon, or Draco was going to –

– oh Merlin, too late. Draco was pouting.

Now Harry found himself distracted by the idea of tasting Draco’s pouting mouth. How mad! Who tasted a pout! How ridiculous! And yet… “I want to see you naked,” he sputtered out. 

Worried, Harry lifted his eyes to see if Draco was scowling. That hadn’t been one of Draco’s suggestions! But Draco didn’t look angry at all. Instead he looked pleased. 

“Do you now?” he asked. He gave a small, coy smile, and one of his hands fluttered up to the neckline of his thin black undershirt. “Would you really?”

“Yes,” Harry said, fervently. He stepped closer to Draco. One step, then two. Draco did not object, so Harry stepped even closer. “I want to see.”

“What,” Draco said in a quiet, husky purr, “do you want to see?”

“Your arse,” Harry blurted. “Oh Merlin. I want to see your arse. And your cock. I want to… I want to see them. And…” Harry shoved his guilt away. So he wasn’t in love with Draco. So he’d never much liked Draco. He’d agreed to this, it was completely consensual, and he was going to try to enjoy this. Harry felt his courage falter further and his words dropped to a whisper. “I want to touch.” 

“Do you…?” Draco whispered. His hands fell to his waist, and he began to pull at his black shirt. Harry expected the hem of the thing to emerge quickly from Draco’s trousers, but he pulled and pulled, like he was teasing Harry deliberately.

Staring at Draco’s waist, Harry watched, until Draco had finally pulled out his whole shirt. It was so long that it hung down over his entire bulge. 

Harry didn’t bother trying to pull his eyes away. “Go on,” he tried to say, but he was so choked up, he didn’t think it came out sounding like English.

Still, Draco put his hands under the black fabric. “I could show you….” His hands worked as Harry watched the shirt stretch and shift over them. Harry grew fully hard, watching, and then the trousers fell to the floor. Draco toed off his pointy leather shoes and stepped out of his forest green trousers, leaving them abandoned on the floor. Harry followed Draco, one step to the left.

“P-pants?” Harry asked, in a near wail. Draco was standing so close to him, and half naked, standing right in front of him. He wore his thin black undershirt and nothing else at all. He was smiling. Soon, perhaps, offering.

“Didn’t bother today,” Draco said, and his smile was feral and dangerous. “Did you want to ask me to do something else?” He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, so close to Harry’s burning face. When Harry hesitated, Draco leaned in a bit, and spoke into Harry’s ear. “I’ll do damn near anything you want, Harry.”

“Kneel!” Harry bit out, shocked and half-incoherent. “Kneel on my bed? Bent over, I mean?”

“Of course,” Draco whispered, and he stepped around Harry and walked the five steps to the bed. Then he put one knee up, and crawled on. Soon he was on all fours, presenting his naked arse to Harry. 

“Holy shit,” Harry whispered, completely overwhelmed and suddenly so hard it hurt. He walked slowly to the bare arse sticking out of the long black undershirt and reached out, then stopped, his hand hanging in the air. “Can I… touch you?”

“Please do,” Draco said. He seemed to stop himself from saying anything else. 

Harry wondered for the briefest moment what else Draco might have wanted to say, then forgot about it when his hand made contact with warm, soft flesh. He emitted a low, garbled noise and raised his other hand to Draco’s arse. “Holy shit,” he whispered, then stroked and cupped and caressed Draco’s arse for a long, perfect moment.

“I want to touch your cock,” Harry found himself murmuring, and, obligingly, Draco spread his legs. 

There Harry went, making that stupid gargle noise again, but he dismissed his embarrassment. He was going to fuck this arse. Dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of times. He was going have orgasms inside there. He reached under and found Draco’s balls, then cock, and took that cock into his hand and stroked it. It felt like it might be a bit thinner than his own, but it was exactly what he wanted in his hand. An erection, attached to a hot bloke, who wanted Harry to fuck him. 

“Why…” Draco’s voice was… breathy? “Why don’t you take off some of your own clothes?”

The only problem with this otherwise brilliant suggestion was that Harry didn’t think he could undress without removing his hands from _both_ Draco’s arse _and_ his cock. Harry tried to express this, but since he had no idea what to say, he ended up simultaneously squeezing Draco’s arse, gripping Draco’s cock, and making yet another weird, embarrassing noise.

“I know,” Draco said, his head hanging low, his body rocking slightly back and forth within Harry’s doubled grip. “But I promise not to go anywhere!”

He’d been understood? Amazed and pleased, his cock and balls aching, Harry reluctantly let go of Draco’s silken body and began to tear off his own outfit. 

“Shirt?” He managed to say, again frustrated by his thorough commitment to incoherent, mangled English. But once again, Draco understood him. He yanked the thing over his head and dumped it on the floor. Then, to Harry’s amazement, he resumed the position Harry had put him in just a few minutes before.

“Unhh…” Harry said, and as soon as he stripped off his second sock, he grabbed his wand and pressed his erection up into the crack of Draco’s perfect, round arse.

“Lube?” Draco asked, still breathy as hell, and Harry nodded frantically a few times until he realized Draco couldn’t see what he was doing and stopped abruptly. But yes, they would definitely need lube. 

“Top drawer,” Harry said, pointing at his bedside table. “Grab it?”

Draco lunged toward the table and wrenched open the drawer, which meant Harry could climb onto the bed next to him. He realized they were going to fuck, or whatever they were about to do, right on top of his nicest duvet cover, but he didn’t much care. That was what cleaning charms were for. 

He lay on his back and gripped his rampant cock as he stared at Draco’s cock and balls, Draco’s nearly hairless but still leanly muscular chest, Draco’s flexing, masculine shoulders. Draco fetched the lube and turned around, kneeling next to Harry with the muggle-style plastic tube in his hand. 

“What the hell do I do with this?”

Harry put his hand out and Draco gave it to him, so Harry flipped the top open and squirted some lube into his other hand. Then he looked at it. “Does this go on me, or you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Draco said, confusingly. “I mean, both.” He lay on his back next to Harry, who squirted some lube into the hand Draco offered up. Then Harry stroked his cock as briefly as possible with the lube in his own. He might have come once already, but he still felt far too close to having another orgasm. He wanted to fuck Draco for a little longer than three or four seconds before it was over; which was why he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, making sure not to watch as Draco stretched himself open with lubed up fingers. The sounds Draco made were enticing enough all on their own. He could watch Draco ready himself later. After his fourth or fifth orgasm of the afternoon, he decided. That might be enough.

“I did say I wanted you on your back, didn’t I?” Draco said, sounding amused, and Harry opened his eyes to see that Draco seemed to want to straddle him. 

Harry helped Draco climb over. As he watched Draco move his nudity casually around and over, he saw that Draco seemed unaware of his own beauty, as though the magic of his nakedness in Harry’s bed was as ordinary as Harry being naked in the shower, for example. Harry felt his eyes grow larger and larger, as though they might eject themselves right out of his head. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Draco said, sitting on Harry’s thighs, his erection dangling behind Harry’s. Harry couldn’t see it anymore. He thought he might pout.

“What?” Harry said, confused. Draco looked off balance again. Then he remembered Draco’s question. “There’s nothing _wrong_ with me,” Harry answered, confused. He’d no idea what his face was doing that Draco would ask. “I just can’t believe... this.” Harry spread his hands to indicate the very clear _nudity_ of the situation. 

Draco put his hands on his hips. “What? What can’t you believe, then?” He crossed his arms over his chest and curled into himself, just slightly.

“You!” Harry said, amazed and unhelpful. “You, naked! And us! Me! Here, in my bed. And naked. Both of us are naked! And you want me to….”

“Oh,” Draco responded, smiling now. “I see. Yes, Harry, we’re naked, and I want you to fuck me. Can you do that?”

Harry nodded fervently again.

“Do you need me to… take control?”

Harry agreed, nodding hard. He was completely intimidated.

Draco slinked forward then, a smile on his face that looked like it should drip white with both canary feathers and cream. “Then I shall,” he purred, and he took hold of Harry’s cock and began to attempt to sit himself down over it.

Harry grabbed hold of the duvet cover in both fists. He needed to shove upwards, now. _Hard_. But that would be rude, unkind, possibly harmful. So instead, he held himself rigid and concentrated on not orgasming before Draco fitted himself down completely over Harry’s cock. 

Slowly, deliberately, Draco worked himself downwards onto Harry. An inch, then half an inch, then a deep breath. Then another half an inch.

It took… a week? A day? Three hours? It took an unmeasurable amount of time before Draco was squirming himself down onto Harry’s thighs, Harry’s entire dick encased in his hot, tight, wet arsehole. 

“Mmm….” Draco said, sighing. “I guess we aren’t virgins anymore.”

There went that garbled throat thing again, Harry thought, from very far away in “don’t come yet” land.

Draco rose up slightly, then he sank back down. “I would have to pick the biggest dick to screw for my first time,” he murmured. He braced himself on Harry’s shoulders and raised himself again, this time exposing more than half of Harry’s cock to the air. “But, you know, just in case you were huge, I used some really large dildos to prepare.” He sank down again. “I figured it would be just my luck. I used to think I had a larger than ordinary penis, but nooooo, yours has to be huuuuuge….” He raised himself again, faster this time. Harry allowed himself to breathe. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to touch me?” Draco was pouting. He’d stopped moving. 

Harry opened his eyes. “I don’t want to come yet,” he confessed. “Your arse is so… I can’t touch you yet.”

Then Harry blinked, his thoughts coming back to him. “Wait, did you say I have a big cock?”

“How could you not know that?” Draco said, looking annoyed. But he rose and fell again, and Harry forgave everything.

“Er, Gryffindor showers? And after Quidditch?”

“You mean, the other boys in Gryffindor are… bigger?” Draco looked unnerved. Then he started to look intrigued. As Harry was balls deep inside him, he took exception. He took hold of Draco’s arse and pulled them closer together, getting just a bit deeper into Draco.

Draco’s eyes fluttered shut as his face relaxed and his head and neck fell forward.

“Not bigger,” Harry said, twisting his hips experimentally. Yes, that move was a great idea. “The same.”

“When they’re hard?” Draco was squirming on him now, trying to get… something. Harry would figure out what as soon as possible.

“How should I know?” Harry wanted Draco on his back, he decided, but he wasn’t sure how to make that happen. Instead he thrust upward with his hips while pulling Draco’s down.

“Well, that’s what counts, right Potter?” Draco rose up slightly and sank down again. “You should stroke my cock,” he demanded. “Who cares how big your dick is when it’s soft? It’s how big it is when it’s hard that matters. You’re a grower. I’m a shower. Do the other boys you compared yourself to grow when they get hard, or stay like you saw after Quidditch?”

“I have no idea,” Harry realised. He lifted a hand from Draco’s hip and took Draco’s cock into his hand. He found that he still liked holding it, so he began to stroke, tip to root and back up again.

“You’re ridiculous,” Draco said, leaning over Harry a bit further, “but you can fuck, so I’ll put up with it. Now fuck me hard and stroke my cock until I come all over you. Then you can roll me onto my back and I’ll let you come in my arse.”

Harry felt his eyelids flutter shut as he strove to obey orders. He could definitely live like this.


	4. Getting to know you, getting to know all about you!

“You wake up with an erection, do you not? Therefore, you will of course, need to fuck me with that, every morning, before you get out of bed. Which means I need to be _in_ your bed. Every night. So yes, obviously I’m moving in, Potter.”

“Er,” Harry watched Draco stride around his room, examining things. He would pick things up and look at them curiously. Then he would usually put them down somewhere else. Harry thought he might not find some of his stuff ever again.

“It isn’t that I object, exactly,” Harry scratched his head and got distracted by Draco’s dangling cock. He hadn’t sucked it yet. He thought he’d like to give that a try. Draco wasn’t hard right now, but if Harry were to get up and touch him–

“Harry?” Draco snapped. “What were you going to say? You don’t object, except you obviously have some sort of objection, so what is it?”

Harry dragged his eyes, and his mind, from Draco’s dick. He thought back, trying to remember what he’d intended to say. “Er,” he began, “I was just thinking I don’t feel like I have any control.” He felt his face start to burn. “I agreed to, er…” he faltered, uncomfortable with what he’d agreed to do.

“Get me pregnant, yes. Go on!”

“Right, and from that moment I’ve just been... following your lead.” Harry couldn’t look at Draco’s face anymore. Draco’s hands were really quite interesting, however. Harry’s face would cool off eventually.

Draco put down a photo of the fifth year Gryffindor Quidditch team and turned to face Harry fully. He looked at Harry, sitting up in bed with the sheet barely covering his crotch. He looked into Harry’s face, and Harry saw Draco become aware of Harry’s blush. Harry felt himself blush harder in response. Harry watched Draco grin more broadly. 

Then Draco sauntered slowly over to Harry, cock swinging, arse swaying. Harry managed to drag his eyes upward a long moment after Draco stopped walking. “Remind me, lover,” Draco purred. “What did the good Healer tell us to do?”

“Have sex,” Harry said, staring at Draco’s lean chest.

Draco took Harry’s hand in his own, he squeezed it briefly, then he placed Harry’s palm on his stomach. He spread Harry’s fingers out, over his abdomen and pressed gently. Then he drew his own fingers lightly, up, over all of Harry’s fingers. Permission, Harry guessed. Permission to take, to touch, to do as he wished. He wanted everything and felt guilty for it, but he swallowed hard and caressed downward, very slowly. Draco didn’t stop him. Instead, Draco smiled encouragement.

“That’s right, Harry,” he said, huskily. 

Harry wasn’t sure if Draco meant Harry’s last spoken comment, or Harry’s current trajectory. He wondered if it mattered. Then, unable to stop himself, he stroked Draco’s cock, and watched it perk up at his touch. 

“Sex, Harry. Lots and lots of lovely sex. Your cock, Harry. In my arse. Over and over again, every day, until you’re so satisfied that you can’t get it up. Then we’ll nap, and when you _can_ get hard again?”

“I’ll fuck you again…” Harry agreed, mesmerized by the feeling of Draco’s dick hardening in his hand.

“I’ll never say no to you, Harry. I’ll want you constantly. You get hard, and I’ll bend over without even being asked. Doesn’t that sound lovely?” 

Harry nodded, and pulled gently. Immediately, Draco came closer, climbed onto the bed, straddled Harry’s legs. He looked Harry in the eye, and Harry didn’t know what to do or say. He wanted to have sex again, but speaking about it, asking for it, was desperately embarrassing, even with both of them naked and Draco sitting on him. Even with Draco’s erection in his hand. Harry stroked it and watched it react.

Draco eyed him for a long moment. Harry could tell he was thinking, but he didn’t mind, because he was still holding Draco’s dick and that was taking almost all of his attention. 

“What do you want to do right this moment, Harry?” Draco’s voice was husky, intense. “You don’t have to say it, you can just move me around. I’ll do anything you want.”

Overwhelmed, Harry nodded and pushed the sheet down. His erection popped up, ready to go. Embarrassed by his own eagerness, Harry pushed gently at Draco till the other boy lay on his belly on the bed. Harry spread Draco’s legs and knelt between them, then put his hands on Draco’s arse. He kneaded the high, round muscles under Draco’s skin. He reached for the lube and put some on his hand, then he slid a finger into Draco’s smooth, white arse. 

“Don’t talk?” he whispered, his face burning at this boldness, and at the broad access Draco was granting . “But please, make noise?”

Draco’s head was turned to the side, but Harry could still hear the rumbling, pleasured hum Draco made as Harry finger fucked him. Allowing that hum to reassure him, Harry stroked his own cock slightly, checking. Yes, he was completely hard. 

“I can fuck you now?” he whispered.

Draco nodded, gave a thumbs up, loudly mumbled out an “Mm hm!”

“Okay then,” Harry said, feeling reassured again. “Okay.” He swiped some lube onto his cock, then pulled Draco’s arse up off the bed a bit. “I want to try it with you on your front,” he said, and Draco gave him another thumbs up signal. So, wriggling and squirming around awkwardly, Harry tried to slide his cock into Draco’s lubed arse.

The process of getting there felt awkward. The position was a little odd, and Draco’s arse didn’t open to his dick right away. But eventually, he was inside Draco, which felt at least as good this time as it had the previous time. Also, he was lying on top of Draco, his legs spread over and around Draco’s, his chest to Draco’s back. He couldn’t see much, but… there was so much _skin_.... Slowly, testing the position, Harry slid his cock in as far as he could, then pulled it partially out again.

“Ohh….” Draco sighed. Harry stopped moving, but only for a moment. That sound, it was… pleased. He fucked his cock back in, nice and slow, and Draco sighed again, and hummed. “I love your arse,” Harry murmured. It was far easier to speak when he wasn’t looking into Draco’s face. “You feel so good.”

Draco hummed again, sounding contented, and Harry felt emboldened to fuck him a bit harder. “I hope you like this at least half as much as I do,” Harry said. He wanted more, even with his cock deep in Draco’s arse. “Er, can I kiss your neck?”

“Mm hm!” Draco agreed, so Harry turned his head inward, and tried to fuck and kiss at the same time. “I’ll get better at this,” he mumbled.

“Practice makes perfect,” Draco whispered, and Harry laughed and laughed and fucked him and came. Then, feeling emboldened, he rolled Draco over and tried to suck his cock. He was terrible at it, even he could tell, but it didn’t seem to matter. Draco came anyway and Harry tried to swallow. What he didn’t swallow was easily _Vanished_.

Sated, tired, they curled up together and fell asleep on top of the duvet cover, and didn’t wake until the fabulous scents from the meal Kreacher was cooking for them wafted into their noses and started their stomachs rumbling.


	5. Who's on the Floo?

“You get the Floo. I’ll give you some privacy, Harry.” Draco winked at Harry and sashayed out of the room, taking Harry’s concentration with him.

The Floo chimed once more, reminding Harry that Hermione was trying to get his attention. He settled in and answered the call. 

“Hey Hermione!” It was nice to see her face. She was smiling, and looked happy and relaxed.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you in days. What’s going on? Why haven’t you called? I thought you’d be done moving in by now. You know Ron and I will come help in a heartbeat. Just ask!”

Harry scratched his neck, embarrassed. “Er, funny story there, Hermione. I, have a house guest now, and, er, he’s been helping me with that stuff.”

“You have a house guest?” Hermione looked surprised but happy. “Who? Neville?”

“Er,” Harry felt himself turn bright red at the thought of fucking Neville raw the way he and Draco had been going at it for the past two days. “No. It’s er... Draco.” He looked down briefly, swallowed, then finished. “Malfoy.”

Hermione’s eyebrows had disappeared into her hair. “Yes,” she said, firming her mouth, “I assumed you meant _that_ Draco.” She swallowed, then slowly tucked some hair behind an ear before continuing. 

“That’s an interesting choice,” Hermione finally said. “Was Malfoy in trouble? Did he need a place to stay?”

“Er,” Harry stalled. He scratched the back of his neck while tried to come up with a decent answer. “He does need help with something, so he’s moved in for the convenience of, er, me being close by to, er, help him out with that. Frequently.” Harry felt his face burning and wondered how he could politely end this conversation.

Indeed, Hermione’s eyebrow went up as she silently catalogued his red face, his inability to look her in the eyes, his false, strained, embarrassed smile.

“You know,” she said eventually. “I really should have seen this coming.” Then her cheeks went red and she looked upwards. “I mean, well. Er.” She took a deep breath and settled herself. Then she looked into his face again and spoke slowly. “If you want Malfoy to live there, Ron and I will adjust. Just don’t kill each other and everything should be fine.”

Still embarrassed, Harry grinned at Hermione, much more able, now, to look her in the eyes. “Thanks, Hermione. I appreciate that.” Harry heard a noise from the next room, and wondered if it was Draco, or Kreacher.

“Oh,” he said, holding up a hand. “I should tell you. With Draco living here, Kreacher decided to move back in full time as well.”

“Decided?” Now both of Hermione’s eyebrows were hidden up in her hairline.

“Yes, I swear!” Harry grinned apologetically. “I kept trying to tell him that he could go back to Hogwarts whenever he liked, but he says Draco needs him. But I finally found a way to pay him!”

“Really?” Hermione looked intrigued. Her house-elf activism had stalled when she learned that house-elves around the country were absolutely refusing wages. Then she had gone to Australia for six weeks and Harry thought she’d lost track completely, but he knew the issue was still important to her. It was a big part of why he’d struggled with the question, even while Kreacher was mostly living and working at Hogwarts. 

“They opened an ‘old-elf home’ for retired house-elves. I send all the money he earns there, as a donation from him, in his name. He swears he’ll never live there, so he doesn’t mind donating the money. My money. He calls it my money.” 

“That’s brilliant! Who opened the place, the Ministry?”

“Oh, no,” Harry laughed. “Some family. I don’t remember their name. They named the place after the house-elf that saved them from a Death Eater raid! I don’t think many house-elves live there yet, but they should still be there if Kreacher ever needs them. It’s called Humfree’s House. It’s just north of Hogsmeade.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Hermione looked very excited. “I’ll have to go visit! Can I talk to you later?”

“Sure, Hermione, bye!”

Harry closed the Floo connection and got off the floor. 

Draco, he saw, was leaning on the door frame, smiling at him. “Clever of you,” he said, admiringly. “Telling her about the house-elf home. That got her off the Floo right quick.”

Harry went to shake his head, no, as he hadn’t been trying to get rid of Hermione at all, when Draco reached up and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “After all,” Draco said, toying with, then unbuttoning the second button, “it’s been a few hours since our last shag,” he said, quietly. He then unbuttoned his third button, and Harry’s mouth went dry.

“Bedroom?” he asked, and when Draco nodded and smiled, Harry walked over and kissed him. 

Draco kissed him back, opening his mouth and aligning his hips to Harry’s. “Get on your back, I’ll climb on and ride you.” 

“Anything,” Harry agreed, and he caressed Draco’s arse once before heading to the bedroom at a fast clip, confident that Draco would follow.


	6. The epistolary chapter.

 

Tuesday, nine in the evening 

Dear Mummy, 

I am sorry I did not owl yesterday. Harry and I saw Healer Frandle and then we came right back to his new home. We had a great deal to talk about, of course, and his house-elf was terribly deferential and turns out to be a fine cook. Oddly, Harry has forsworn all meat products, but I think I will not mind too much. It seems like a good way to keep from getting pudgy, at the very least. And his restrictions should not affect my eating choices when we are not at his house.

Healer Frandle was very competent and professional, and he put Harry at ease right away. I am very glad you made our appointment with him in particular. I know you were quite intent on him. As usual, you were quite correct. I think he is exactly the right Healer for Harry and me. Frandle is just the perfect combination of experienced, solicitous, calm and gentle. We asked him a great number of questions and he answered them all thoroughly. Harry felt much better after he had the Healer answer his questions. 

Now, please do not be upset, but it turns out that, for purely medical reasons I assure you, I will not be getting pregnant any time soon. Frandle is quite certain that is it not currently possible, and I know you trust his judgment. I was quite dismayed by this news at first, but upon some reflection, I feel this will be acceptable. Which is to say, I am willing to wait. I hope you are, too. I do not wish to disappoint you. 

The Healer says Harry and I just need to get to know each other better. Specifically, my body has to get to know Harry’s magic before I have a chance at maintaining a pregnancy. So I have moved in with him and I will be spending all my time over here, too. 

So far, living with Harry is ~~perfect~~ ~~extremely~~ ~~everything I~~ quite acceptable. Harry is ~~stupid and~~ scruffy and arrogant and ~~handsome and~~ unsure and ~~he follows me around like a puppy. He is completely perfect~~ he seems somewhat immature at moments, but I feel confident that I can work with him and we will come to be able to more easily accommodate one another’s needs. 

I assure you that I am doing my utmost to be an accommodating and gracious houseguest, despite the fractious history between Harry and I. I did hear your concerns, Mummy, and I am taking them to heart. 

We shall come for tea or luncheon sometime next week, if you like? I hope so.

All my love,   
Draco

 

Wednesday, eight thirty in the morning 

Dearest Sister, 

I must thank you again, dear Andromeda, for the brilliant idea. Draco and Harry are ensconced together in Harry’s new home, and I believe they are currently busy “getting to know one another.” Probably in every room. Twice. 

Draco is no longer moping underfoot and when I tried to Floo Call the house, Harry took ages to answer. When the two of them finally did come to the fire, they both looked completely lovestruck and were grinning from ear to ear. 

You are still the genius I always knew you to be, and I am so glad to have you back in my life.

With sincere gratitude,  
Narcissa

  
Wednesday, eight forty five in the morning

My dearest son,

All is well and I am not disappointed. Of course I wish to be a grandmother, but as long as that happens before I get too old to care for your child occasionally, there is no other rush upon the matter. The important issue was securing the agreement of the other father. It is quite acceptable if the pregnancy itself is not immediately forthcoming.

If Healer Frandle encouraged you to spend time in Harry’s presence, then, by all means, stay right where you are. I shall miss you, but you are of an age when living away from Mummy is only to be expected.

As for luncheon, Friday at noon would be perfect. I shall expect you and Harry in the gardens. Please see to his clothing, that he should dress appropriately. We should not want him to feel out of place, or unwelcome.

All my love,  
Mummy  



	7. Epilogue

“I’m probably all accustomed to your magic by now,” Draco murmured. He tucked his head under Harry’s chin and snuggled closer. Harry’s cleansing charm had left them feeling dry and a little cold, and the sex had made them sleepy.

Harry pulled the blanket up a bit, then pulled Draco in towards him with both arms. He thought about commenting on how it was a cold winter night, but since Draco had simply cuddled up, he decided he shouldn’t need an excuse.

Then Harry backtracked enough to realize what Draco had said. “Wait… you think we should go see Frandle again? Try to get pregnant? It’s only been, er….” Harry counted on his fingers. “It’s only been seven months. Didn’t Frandle say we should assume it would take around eighteen?”

Draco stayed tucked firmly under Harry’s chin, so he couldn’t see Draco’s eyes. He wondered if this small act of privacy was for Draco, or for him.

“We have sex a lot,” Draco finally answered. His voice was quiet. “And he said eighteen months was the shortest marriage, not the amount of time we should expect. And, well, I… I don’t….”

Draco stopped speaking. Harry didn’t know what he’d been aiming to say, and he didn’t know what he might say, either, so he rubbed Draco’s back and considered the situation. Draco might be asking to move forward to pregnancy because he wanted to be done with Harry. But that was not all right with Harry. He’d been thinking about this for a few months now, and he didn’t want to co-parent with a stranger, he wanted to raise children with a spouse. Was he eager to get married right now? No, he was only eighteen years old and he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. But he didn’t want Draco to move out, either. 

If Draco wanted to move out, Harry wouldn’t be able to stop him, but he wasn’t going to get Draco pregnant, first. So that was the first thing.

But Harry didn’t really think Draco wanted to move out. Living together was… great. They hardly ever fought, the sex was incredible, Andromeda and Teddy were like a second family for the two of them, the Weasleys seemed increasingly able to accept that Draco and Harry were together, even Draco’s Mum was really nice. Living with Draco was the best part of Harry’s life right now, and he saw no reason to think Draco felt differently. 

Harry wanted everything to stay the same between him and Draco. He wanted Draco to stay in his bed, to be Harry’s lover, to continue learning to fit in with Harry’s family and friends. So that was the second thing.

Harry knew how he felt. But he didn’t really have any idea how Draco felt. He really needed to ask already. So that was the third thing.

“I have no idea how you feel about all of this,” Harry said, his breath ruffling Draco’s pretty blond hair. “But I love having you here. And although I know I said I would get you pregnant, and I am still willing to do that, I’m not ready to become a dad any time soon. We’re only eighteen.”

“Weren’t your parents eighteen when you were born?” 

“No, they were twenty, and I might not be ready at twenty, frankly. How old were your parents when you were born?”

“Mum was, uh, twenty-five? And my father is a year older than my mother.”

Harry stroked Draco’s hair. “Then why did you want to become a Dad when you are still so young?”

“We’re not that young,” Draco bristled. 

“Young to be parents,” Harry disagreed. 

Draco didn’t answer, instead, he rolled within the circle of Harry’s arms, so that his back was against Harry’s belly and chest. Was he angry at Harry? Harry breathed in, deep and slow. He could ask, he decided. It was time to just… ask.

“Are you angry at me?”

Draco rolled again, and looked Harry in the eye. “What?”

“Are you mad at me? For not wanting to get you pregnant yet? Or anything else?”

“I thought you were angry at me!”

“I’m not,” Harry assured him, and petted a long stripe down Draco’s back. “Did I sound angry?”

“I…” Draco hesitated. “You keep insisting that we’re really young,” he finally said.

“I feel young,” Harry said. “I think about choosing a job and being stuck with it forever, and I feel like I’m too young. I imagine telling Andromeda that you and I could take care of Teddy all weekend so she can have some time to relax or something, and I feel really, really young. I think about taking a hugely pregnant boyfriend to St. Mungos and coming home with a tiny newborn baby, and I feel the youngest of all.”

Draco stared at Harry, his eyes wide, but he didn’t speak. 

“Er, Draco, are you angry at me?”

Instead of answering, Draco simply… stared. Harry felt his insides freezing. Draco was angry at him. Angry! What had he done wrong? He didn’t want to have a baby yet, but when Draco was so furious that he couldn’t even _speak_ , Harry felt his certainty waver. Was Draco going to leave him over this? Find some other famous arsehole to get him pregnant?

Finally, Draco seemed to be about to speak. He swallowed once, he opened his mouth, he said… “I’m your boyfriend?”

Harry didn’t answer at first. He was too surprised. But Draco looked upset at his lack of response, so he knew he needed to say something. “I thought so?” He finally said. “Is that… okay?”

“Yes,” Draco said immediately. “Yes! It’s absolutely fine!” He pulled Harry closer and kissed him. Then he reached for Harry’s cock. “I want to suck you,” he declared with… glee?

“I, what?” Harry said, trying to catch up. Draco was stroking his cock. He reached for Draco’s arse, and, oh, now Draco could get a better grip on Harry’s cock. Which felt great, but hadn’t they been having a serious conversation?

“Finger me,” Draco said, and Harry did, and Draco tucked his face into Harry’s neck, threw one leg over Harry’s thigh, and started to speak.

“The baby thing was Mum’s idea, but I was all for it. I’d been trying to get up the courage to come over here and offer you my arse as a thank you, or a reward, or any excuse. I’d been stretching myself with plugs and dreaming of showing up on your doorstep and….” he took a deep breath and wriggled himself down a bit, opening himself up even slightly more to Harry’s fingers. Harry slid in a second one and Draco sighed with happiness.

“I was sort of terrified when the Healer said we’d have to fuck constantly for months. Terrified and elated. I wanted you, but I couldn’t imagine that you wanted me back. I figured I only had a little while before you’d get tired of me. And that’s why I tried to suggest going back to Frandle a few minutes ago.”

“Because you thought I’d get tired of you?” Harry slid his fingers into Draco’s arse again, and this time he deliberately stroked across Draco’s prostate. Draco nodded even as he arched his back and cooed quietly.

“I am never going to get tired of you,” Harry declared with enthusiasm. He pushed Draco onto his back and spread Draco’s legs apart. 

Draco looked up at Harry and there were stars in his eyes. 

“I don’t need you to have my baby,” Harry said, and rubbed his cockhead against Draco’s hole. “I just need _you_.” Then he pushed his cock into Draco all the way, hard. 

“I’m…” Draco paused, then pressed his feet into the mattress and began to fuck back, upwards, taking Harry’s cock and demanding more. “I’m good with that.”

Fin


End file.
